Sweet Discipline (2 page)

The Director closed the folder and replaced it in the drawer with a soft thud. “If you are not committed to disciplining your body, there is no point continuing. We have very few openings and a waiting list. Someone else will be glad to take over your reservation.”

Norris knew she was being manipulated. Every instinct told her to leave, but the remembered image of Kendra’s slender body, and the happy, satisfied look on her face made her yearn for the same.

She squared her shoulders. “May I borrow a pen?”

The Director’s mouth twitched in what might have been a triumphant smile. She retrieved the folder, opened it, and passed a multi-page contract to Norris. “Make sure you understand and agree to all the conditions before you sign.” She handed her a black Waterford pen.

8

Sweet Discipline

Norris settled back to read. The contract began in standard manner, specifying the participants, detailing the fee structure, and the stated goals of
Sweet Discipline
. Nothing out of line though the fees made her wince.

She read on. “Excuse me. What does this mean, ‘accept all instructions and discipline without complaint or question’?”

“Just what it says. You are here to learn control of your habits. That requires a change in your behavior as well as your thinking. You must learn to discipline yourself.”

Norris squirmed on the uncomfortable chair. The word
discipline
repeated so often troubled her. Maybe she should have paid more attention to the name of this exclusive spa. The clauses in the contract went on to stipulate that she would allow free access to her body. “Does this mean for massages?”

“Massages are part of the program. Exercise with a personal trainer is another.”

That made sense. She’d often thought about hiring a private trainer but never seemed to get around to it. The clauses about confidentiality and nondisclosure made business sense. If the program could transform women’s bodies so successfully, of course they wouldn’t want competitors stealing their methods. “The refresher retreats are optional?”

“Many of our clients enjoy returning several times a year for maintenance. They want to make sure they are still on track.”

Norris nodded. “Good idea.” She scanned the next page and paused. She glanced up. “I won’t have any socializing with other clients?”

“We find our clients do best when they focus entirely on learning new habits.” She folded her hands on the desk and looked critically at Norris. “Most of our clients need no distractions. When you finish the day’s activities, you will want to be alone to rest and meditate.”

“Hmm. I’m not much for navel gazing.”

The Director’s lips twitched. “Neither are we. However, we do encourage thinking about behavior and how important it is to modify it. We emphasize a positive attitude.”

“But…completely alone for six weeks?”

“Not alone. You will be with your trainer every day.”

Norris furrowed her brow. “And if we don’t get along?”

“We have provisions for that.” The Director paused, then continued when Norris nodded. “Please note that while you are here there will be no distractions. You will have no visitors, receive or initiate no telephone calls, messages, email or mail. You will have no access or reason to use the Internet.” The Director studied Norris’ charcoal gray suit with a dismissive frown. “Have you cleared your schedule for the time required?”

Norris wished she’d worn her new Donna Karan suit. She lifted her chin. “My staff and associates have their instructions.”

9

Bonnie Hamre

“Very good.” The Director folded her hands on the desk. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Why wasn’t I supposed to bring any clothes with me?”

“We supply everything our clients need.”

“What if I absolutely must leave?”

“We strongly discourage that.” The Director looked put out. “If you must leave early, you forfeit all fees but must still adhere to the confidentiality clauses.”

Norris leafed through the contract again. Certain provisos still made her uneasy, but she needed this program. “When do I start?”

“When we are finished here, a technician will come for you. You begin at that moment.”

“Okay, then.” Norris initialed each of the contract pages and signed her name where indicated. The Director signed hers then dated the contract. She opened her drawer again and took out a receipt book. “Do you wish to pay by check or credit card?”

Norris handed over her platinum card.
This had better be worth it.
Mouth dry, she waited while the Director left the room to run the charge. A few moments later, she returned and handed Norris her card and the charge slip.

Norris gulped, signed and placed her card back in her purse.

The Director nodded. “Everything is arranged.” She pressed a buzzer on the floor and in minutes, the door opened.

A slender but muscular woman in peach nursing scrubs smiled at Norris. “Ready?

Come with me.”

Norris swallowed hard. Ready or not, she was committed to
Sweet Discipline
. She stood, exchanged a look with the Director and followed the technician out the door. She glanced at the identification badge on her chest. “Angela. Hi.”

The technician smiled. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

“Thanks. That’s more than the Director said. Doesn’t she have a name?”

“You won’t see her again until you leave and she does an exit interview.”

Norris rolled her eyes even as she recognized that Angela had not answered her question. It wasn’t worth pursuing. If wondering about a name kept her awake nights, she could always find out. “That’s a lot of mystery for a diet spa.”

Angela giggled. “You’ll see.” She led Norris down several halls with doors marked Suite A, Suite B and so on. She stopped in front of Suite F and opened the door. “Here we are.”

Norris halted in the doorway. This room wasn’t sterile. On the contrary, it was as luxurious as any boutique hotel’s penthouse suite. More so. Decorated in balmy tones of blues and greens, with a long cushiony couch just right for lazing, several large comfy-looking upholstered chairs, the living room had an immense, deep-piled area rug that 10

Sweet Discipline

made her think of oceans and far away places. She looked at the sign on the door and then at Angela. “Are we in the right place?”

“Oh yes. This is your private suite. Your bedroom is here,” the technician advanced through the living room to gesture through an open door. “Your bath is connected.”

Retracing her steps, she slid open sliding doors to reveal a small but completely equipped kitchenette.

“Wow,” Norris breathed. She reached into the small refrigerator for a chilled bottle of designer water. No wonder the fees were so high. She might have to work at losing weight, but she’d do it in comfort and style. “Where’s the TV?”

“There aren’t any in the suites. You might be able to use the one in the guest salon.”

Norris shrugged. “What’s in there?” she asked, pointing at a closed door on the far end of the suite.

“That leads to your private workout room.” When Norris went to investigate, Angela stopped her. “Your personal trainer will explain all that after you’ve been introduced.”

“Fine. When will I meet her?”

Angela gave her a sly grin. “You’ll find some workout clothes in your closet. After you bathe and put them on, I’ll take you to your trainer.”

“I showered before I came.”

“Your coach insists on absolute cleanliness. If you don’t bathe now, you’ll be sent back to do it.”

“Weird.”

“I’ll wait for you out here. After your shower, don’t put on any deodorant or cream.

Leave your hair loose.”

“Weird,” Norris repeated but she headed for the bathroom, stopping along the way to admire the bedroom. “But nice,” she murmured as she ran her hand over the silky azure duvet draping the king-sized bed. On either side of the bed, thick rugs invited bare toes. She carefully avoided glancing at the long bank of mirrors facing the bed.

No windows. She skirted the single armchair facing the bed to open a tall armoire and saw hanging space and several drawers. She opened them and found a set of teal exercise sweats in one, a number of sea-colored lightweight tunics in another and nothing in the last drawer. Was she supposed to wash her underwear every night?

She undressed and placed her clothes and purse in the armoire but left her earrings, watch and rings on the bedside table next to the latest bestseller she’d brought with her.

Wearing only her bra, panties and control-top pantyhose, she went into the bathroom.

Marble everywhere. She looked forward to using the huge glass shower stall with multiple showerheads at various heights. Double sinks in a curving countertop stretched under a well-lit mirror. As usual, she averted her eyes from the sight of her near naked body.

11

Bonnie Hamre

A toilet and bidet were tucked demurely behind a half wall. Taking pride of place was a deep, jetted bathtub. Norris sighed, anticipating a long soak with scented oils. She glanced at the toiletries and was surprised to find only soap, shampoo and hand lotion.

“Do you have everything you need?” Angela’s voice floated in from the bedroom.

Norris went to shut the connecting door and found none. She narrowed her eyes, then shrugged. They were all women here. “I don’t see any toiletries. I could use some conditioner, moisturizer and a few other things.”

“There are toothbrushes and toothpaste in the drawer by the sink. You’ll be provided with more later on.”

Norris started the shower. She felt cheated. What spa didn’t offer its own brand of scented soaps, oils, creams and lotions? Not even a loofah! Muttering to herself, she washed and shampooed quickly, then stepped out of the shower and whisked a towel off the heated bar. It was soft and heavenly warm against her wet skin. That was more like it!

“I left something for you to wear on the hook.”

“Okay.” Norris reached for her bra. She hated to put it back on, but she’d only worn her undies for less than half a day. Her bra and panties weren’t on the counter where she’d left them. “Where’s my underwear?” she called.

“You won’t need it. I’ll have it laundered for you.”

Shaking her head, Norris pulled a lightweight aqua tunic over her head. It was cut low at the neck, revealing the cleft of her cleavage, and barely reached her upper thighs.

“Is there a larger size in these things?”

“That’s your size,” Angela answered, coming to the bathroom door.

Norris tugged at the hemline. “I’ll have to be careful if I do any bending over.”

Angela giggled. “Better hurry. Your trainer doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Norris frowned. For the price she was paying, her coach had better get used to her convenience. Still, she opened the drawer, noted a comb and brush, disposable razors, tweezers, shaving cream and tooth-brushing supplies. She brushed and rinsed quickly.

With Angela watching every move, she ran the natural bristle brush through her hair and wished she’d kept her usual hair appointment. She needed a good cut to give her fine hair any shape or body. She’d been rushed getting everything squared away for her visit to the spa. Now she’d really need a trim when she was through here. Maybe she’d go for a whole new look to go with the new her. Maybe some artful streaking or highlights? Grinning, she gave her hair a last brush and left it loose as instructed. She wished she could wear at least some mascara. Without makeup, her eyes looked almost colorless, too light a green in her pale face.

“Lead on.”

Angela looked her over, nodded in approval and left the bathroom. She stopped by the bed and gestured at Norris’ jewelry and book. “If you’ll put those in your purse, we’ll store them in the safe until you’re ready to leave.”

12

Sweet Discipline

“But I’m reading that book.”

“You’ll get it back later.”

With a frown, Norris did as instructed. “Do I need shoes?”

“You’re fine. Come with me. You’re ready to begin your program.”

At last! Now she’d get to the good stuff.

13

Bonnie Hamre

Norris sat as directed on the high stool in the middle of an empty room. As Angela had warned, the lights went off, leaving her in total darkness. She didn’t like sitting here in absolute silence. She felt edgy, disoriented, and certain she’d made a huge mistake in coming to
Sweet Discipline
. Kendra had warned her. Why hadn’t she listened?

She was supposed to be using the dark to clear her mind, concentrating on the desire to change her body, to create new habits and strengthen her will to achieve her goals. Instead she clutched the edge of the stool, afraid to move, afraid she’d lose her balance and fall. She knew the floor was only inches below her feet. Rationally, she knew that, but the darkness surrounding her eroded her sense of proportion, making her feel suspended over a huge void. She could feel her heart thumping, her breathing becoming the only sound in that cool darkness.

There! What was that noise? She strained to hear better, but there was only utter stillness. Maybe she’d only imagined a door opening and closing, the soft rustle of clothing, a barely there suggestion of air against her face.

Her breathing quickened. “Is someone there?”

Silence. She leaned forward, trying to peer through the darkness. Nothing. Time passed, how much she didn’t know.

Slowly, so gradually that at first she thought she was imagining it, she could see the color of her tunic. Pale at first, then deepening to aqua. Light! She looked around, upward, and then spotted a tiny pinprick of light in the ceiling. As she watched, it grew bigger, brighter until her entire body was lit, as if she were on stage, spotlighted before an audience.

The rest of the room was in darkness.

“Remove your tunic.”

“What?” Norris gasped and whirled, almost falling as she spun on the stool. She tried to locate the speaker but as far as she could tell, she was alone. “Who are you?”

“Remove it.” Relief that she hadn’t been imagining things, that she wasn’t in isolation any longer, vanished. The voice this time was peremptory, a deep baritone that left no doubt its owner could see her even if she couldn’t see him. She registered the tone of his voice apprehensively. It was rich, smooth and totally cold, not a voice to cajole or coax.